How the Witch Stole Lurlinemas
by elledottore
Summary: In a poem based on the Dr. Seuss book of a similar name, Elphaba takes her hatred for Lurlinemas out on Sarima's children, only to learn the true meaning of the holiday.


**Hello, everyone! So, I know a lot of not so good things are happening in Motionless right now, so I thought I'd give y'all this little random thing that I actually wrote all the way back in September when it would have been a little inappropriate to post. But now it's the holidays, so yay!**

 **Disclaimer: I am NOT Dr. Seuss! I don't have his genius. Also, I cut some parts out because I couldn't find a good analog to Max the dog. I considered both Liir and Chistery, but neither of them really worked. I also know that in cannon, Elphaba would have been too busy having her annual mope session over Fiyero to actually be bothered to do this, but she probably thought about it a few times.**

 **Enjoy!**

Every Tigulaar in Kiamo Ko liked Lurlinemas a lot,

But the Witch, who lived in the western tower, did NOT!  
The Witch _hated_ Lurlinemas! The whole Lurlinemas season!  
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be her head wasn't screwed on just right.

It could be, perhaps, that her shoes were too tight.

But the most likely reason that I have come to believe

Was the death of her lover one Lurlinemas Eve.

But whatever the reason,

Her shoes or events far,

She stood there on Lurlinemas Eve, hating the Tigulaars.

Staring down from her tower with a sour, witchy frown,

At the evidence that a celebration was about to go down.

For she knew Sarima and her sisters on the floors beneath

Were busy now, hanging garlands and wreaths.

"And they're putting out their baskets!" she snarled with a sneer.

"Tomorrow is Lurlinemas! It's practically here!"  
Then she growled, with her green fingers nervously drumming,

"I MUST find some way to stop Lurlinemas from coming!"  
For tomorrow, she knew

Nor and the boys

Would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!

And _then_! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!  
That's one thing she hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!  
Then the Tigulaars, young and old, would sit down to a feast.

And they'd feast! And they'd feast!  
And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!  
They would feast on corn pudding and Vinkun roast beast,

Which was something the Witch couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN, they'd do something

She liked least of all!  
Every Tigulaar in Kiamo Ko, the tall and the small,

Would stand close together, with Lurlinemas bells ringing.

They'd stand hand in hand. And they would start singing!  
They'd sing! And they'd sing!  
And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!

And the more the Witch thought of this whole Lurlinemas-Sing,

The more the Witch thought, "I must stop this whole thing!  
Why, for eight long years I've put up with it now!  
I MUST stop Lurlinemas from coming!  
But HOW?!"  
Then she got an idea!  
An awful idea!

THE WITCH GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" she said with a cackle.

She made a dress with skills she'd learned from Mother Yackle.

Then she picked up the Grimmerie, and with spell work so fine,

She made herself look like the Fairy Queen Lurline.

At night, the castle was dark. Outside, quiet snow filled the air.

The Tigulaars were all dreaming sweet dreams without care

When the Witch emerged from her upstairs lair.

"Their presents are in the living room," the Lurline-Witch hissed.

And she flew to the roof, empty bags in her fist.

Then she slid down the chimney, with a little hitch.

But if Lurline could do it, so could the Witch.

She got stuck only once,

For a moment or two.

Then she stuck her head out

Of the fireplace flue.

The Tigulaars' baskets all sat in a row.

"These baskets," she grinned,

"Are the first things to go!"

Then she slithered and slunk,

With a smile most unpleasant,

Around the whole room,

And she took every present!  
Pop guns! And bicycles!

Roller skates! Drums!

Candy mice!

Chocolate bars! Popcorn!  
And plums!

And she stuffed them in bags.

Then the Witch, very nimbly,

Stuffed all the bags, one by one,

Up the chimbly!

Then she slunk to the kitchen.

She took the Tigulaars' feast!  
She took the corn pudding!  
She took the roast beast!

She cleaned out that kitchen

As quick as a flash.

Why, the Witch even took

The sisters' stocked cans of hash!

Then she stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee.

"And NOW!" grinned the Witch,

"I will stuff up the tree!"

And the Witch grabbed the tree, and she started to shove,

When she heard a small sound, like the coo of a dove.

She turned around fast, fearing she would be nixed,

But it was just little Nor Tigulaar, who was only a little over six.

The Witch had been caught by her lover's small daughter,

Who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.

Nor stared at the Witch,

And said, "Lurline, why?

Why are you taking our Lurlinemas tree?

Why?"

And although the Witch liked Nor,

'Cause the girl had her lost lover's eyes,

She knew that the only way out of this was to lie.

"Why, my little pretty," the fake Lurline lied,

"There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side.

So I'm taking it home to my magic shop, my dear.

I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here."

And her fib fooled the child.

Then she patted Nor's head,

And got her a drink, and sent her to bed.

And once Nor Tigulaar went to bed with her cup,

The Witch went to the chimney

And stuffed the tree up!  
Then the last thing she took

Was a log from their fire.

Then she went up the chimney herself, the old liar.

On the walls she left nothing but hooks and some wire.

It was a quarter past dawn:

The Tigulaars, still abed,

The Tigulaars, dreaming far,

When the Witch got in bed.

She had successfully stolen their presents!

The ribbons! The wrappings!  
The tags! And the tinsel!  
The trimmings! The trappings!

Her plan had worked!  
Now nothing could stop it!  
When she awoke, she dragged her load to the window to drop it.

"Those poor Tigulaars!" she was witchishly humming.

"They're finding out now that no Lurlinemas is coming!

They're just waking up!

I know just what they'll do!  
Their mouths will hang open for a clock tick or two.

Then all the Tigulaars in this castle will cry, 'Boo hoo!'"

"That's a noise," grinned the Witch,

"That I simply MUST hear!"

So she paused.

And the Witch put a hand to her ear.

And she _did_ hear a sound

Rising over the snow.

It started out low,

Then it started to grow …

But the sound wasn't sad!

Why, this sound sounded merry!

It couldn't be so!

But it _was_ merry! Very!

Every Tigulaar in Kiamo Ko, the tall and the small,

Was singing! Without any presents at all!

She hadn't stopped Lurlinemas from coming!

IT CAME!

Somehow or other, it came just the same.

And the Witch, with her bag still dangling over the snow,

Stood puzzling and puzzling.

"How could it be so?

It came without ribbons!  
It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes, or bags!"

And she puzzled and puzzled,

Till her puzzler was sore.

Then the Witch thought of something she hadn't before:

"Maybe Lurlinemas," she thought, "doesn't come from a store.

Maybe Lurlinemas, perhaps, means a little bit more."

And what happened then?

Well, her old Nanny is heard to say

That the Witch's heart filled for the first time in years that day.

And once her heart was filled with delight,

She ran out of her dark room into the bright morning light.

And she brought back the toys and the food for the feast.

And Elphaba herself carved (but did not eat) the roast beast.

 **Yeah. The end. Welcome to the holidays, everyone!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Cheers,**

 **Elle Dottore**


End file.
